The 54th Hunger Games
by ChaseTheOriginal
Summary: In 73 years, 1,703 children died in the arena. We all know the story of the 74th and 75th Hunger games, but what about the previous ones? This is the story of the 54th Hunger Games. Real blood was shed. Real tears were wept. Real love was felt. Real lives were lost...
1. Prologue

**Prologue **

**The 53****rd**** Hunger Games**

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><p>Sweat and blood streamed down his forehead.<p>

Wind and rain pelted his face.

The boy wiped his forehead with his left hand, mopping up water, blood and dirt.

Seconds ticked by.

This was it. It was finally time to end this...

He lunged.

A jolt of pain shot through his shoulder as his steel blade clashed against the girl's quarterstaff. The girl let out a primal battle cry and pushed out against him, knocking the boy backwards. His sword was knocked out of his hands as he fell to the ground. It skidded across the slippery earth and fell in a mud puddle. Surprised by the turn of events, the boy had little time to think of a plan before her next attack.

A flash of blonde hair was his only warning. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the girl raise her staff. Quickly, he kicked at the back of her knees with his feet. The girl let out a thrill shriek in surprise as she dropped the staff and fell to the ground. Pressing his advantage, the boy scrambled to his feet and ran for his sword. He hastily fished it out of the puddle and turned towards the girl. However, the girl was not on the ground where he had least seen her. His eyes flitted left and right, but she was nowhere to be seen. It was difficult to see anything in the rain at all. Suddenly, the girl's staff connected with his chest and knocked the breath out of him. Gasping for air, he swung blindly. The blade slashed through empty air. However, the swing had given him enough time to locate her. Surrounded by rain, the girl held a defensive position to his right. He turned to face her, holding his sword in front of him. Once again, they were at a standstill...

Blood and mud dripped into his eyes. Despite the pain, he refused to lose eye contact with the girl.

Exhaustion began to set in. The events of the past two weeks: the endless battles, wounds, emotional trials, lack of sleep, and poor nutrition were finally catching up to him. His sword hand began to quiver and the point dropped a couple of inches.

She lunged.

The attack surprised him, and he barely got his sword up in time to deflect the swing. The girl's metal staff bounced off the sword. The shock threw her off balance and she struggled to regain a footing in the wet mud. Seeing a moment of weakness, the boy took advantage of the situation. He thrust out, with all of his strength.

The blade slid through her flesh, like a scissor through paper. She let out a guttural cry and swung the staff around in reflex. The heavy pole struck him in the shoulder and threw him face first, into the ground. The wet earth muffled his cry of pain. Quickly, he tried to push himself to his feet. When he went to move his right arm, pain shot through his body and he collapsed back in the mud. Tears stung his cheeks and his mouth filled with blood. The boy had never felt more vulnerable than in that moment. There was nothing he could do but lay in the dirt and await his inevitable death.

It never came.

He felt destroyed. His tongue was cut and still bleeding from when he had bit it during his fall. His shoulder felt as if it had gone through a meat grinder, and his right arm was completely useless. The boy was destroyed, but he was still alive.

With a grunt he lifted his head, searching for his opponent.

The girl was on her knees, gasping for air. Her quarterstaff was discarded on the ground next to her. With eyes wide from shock, she looked down at the sword that was stuck firm in her stomach. Fingers visibly shaking, she touched the hilt of the sword in disbelief. Blood trickled out of her mouth and ran down her chin. She was too weak to move, but the wound wasn't fatal.

The boy collapsed back to the ground, sick and in pain. He closed his eyes and let the darkness wash over him.

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><p>Seconds, minutes, hours? There was no way to tell how long he had been unconscious in the mud.<p>

The boy opened his eyes and accidently put pressure on his right arm. His head filled with white light as he screamed out in agony. When the pain subsided, the boy looked back towards the arm. A piece of bone was sticking out from the blue colored flesh. He had a feeling that he would never use that arm again.

Then he heard it.

Weak cries and gasps for air came from the girl. She was still kneeling on the wet earth trying to clasp her shaking fingers around the sword handle. Coppery blood flowed from the wound and pooled around her knees.

The sight made the boy retch and gag. His body convulsed, but there was nothing in his stomach to throw up. When the heaving stopped, the boy rose to his feet. Careful not to move his right arm, he limped over to the dying girl.

The gasps and moans coming from her lips halted as he approached. Visibly shaking, the girl turned her head to look at him. Her lips opened and she coughed out some blood.

Despite the gruesome scene, the boy could not look away from her eyes. He had done this to her. He had ended her life. He had subjected her to this torture and taken her entire future away from her. He was a killer.

Her coughing stopped and she opened her mouth once more.

_Please._

The phrase was so quiet, the boy was unsure if she had managed to speak, or if it was just the wind in his ears. Regardless of what she said, the boy knew what he had to do.

Tears fell from his eyes as he wrapped his left hand around the hilt of the sword. The blade came lose with a wet, squelching sound that made the boy gag again.

He brought the shaking sword up to her neck, and pressed it against her flesh. The girl stared at him with half-open eyes. Her jaw closed and the muscles around her neck seemed to tighten. Her hands hung loosely by her side. She was helpless.

This was it. It was finally time to end this...

The boy slid the blade across her neck, watching the warm, red liquid pour out of her skin. When his cut was finished, the steel blade fell to the ground.

The girl stared at him as though she could see right through him. He reached out with his left hand and touched her pale cheek. She was so...cold...

**"Ladies and Gentleman, may I present the winner of the 53****rd**** annual Hunger Games. Alex Sypher!" **

A cannon fired.

The rain stopped.

A large, metal claw grabbed his torso and lifted Alex up off the ground.

Fourteen days. Twenty Three dead.

The Arena grew smaller beneath him as he ascended. He had seen this so many times before. There was always a close up of the Victors face as they were pulled up towards the Hovercraft. He remembered seeing some crying in pain, screaming in victory, smiling in glory, or sighing in relief.

Alex didn't do anything. He felt...empty.

The Alex that had entered the arena was as dead as the girl he had just killed.

Children didn't leave the Arena. Victors left the Arena.

All children die in the Hunger Games.

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><p><strong>AN**

**Hey guys, hope you all enjoyed this chapter. If you have any qualms, criticism, or questions feel free to PM me! I will update frequently, so make sure to follow this story. Review, Review, Review!**

**About this Chapter: **Before we get introduced to our characters and the main story line, we get a taste of the Hunger Games. I use the prologue as a way to set the tone for the story and introduce you to my writing (which is pretty terrible :P). Many readers will skip over a story if the first sentence is something like 'Ryan woke up on a bright, sunny day.' So, I made a hook chapter. Shameless, I know. However, the prologue explores the gritty reality of the Hunger Games. I feel like Collins' work has become romanticized by the movies and fans. Her books aren't about the archery or kissing in a cave. They're about the horrors of war and violence. There will be romance and silly alliances, because these are just kids. In the end, I hope to convey the same message that Collins conveyed by introducing a refreshingly, new story. Unlike Collins, I will introduce multiple character POVs and approach the story from multiple angles. There will probably be about 15 or so chapters devoted to character development before the games begin. I know many readers only want to read the games. However, I encourage all of you to follow this story and read all that I have to offer. And please, please, please give me feedback, so I can fix all of my stupid mistakes. I believe that I have a good story to share, and I don't want it to be ruined by my poor writing skills.

~Chase~


	2. District 1: Rhyne

**Chapter 1**

**The Procession**

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><p><strong>District 1<strong>

**RHYNE**

Ry's current situation was less than ideal. It wasn't the fact that his back was pinned against the wall, or that Blaise was pacing in front of him. It wasn't the long sword in her right hand or the dagger in her left. It wasn't the fact that they had been locked in battle for an hour or so...

The problem was simple: he was distracted.

Fighting all night had taken its toll on him. For once, Ry's shield felt heavy in his hand and the short sword was beginning to quiver in his iron grip. He hated it. But that wasn't the real problem right now.

Snarling, he dropped to a defensive position. It was a good tactical choice, given his position. But he didn't execute it properly. His shield was too low and his cramped thighs prevented him from dropping as low as he wanted too. Sweat dripped down his jaw and corded neck as he held the position.

Suddenly, Blaise was upon him.

A swift pommel thrust broke his defense and forced his shield to the side. In desperation, Ry thrust out with his short sword, to try and force her back. It was a sloppy move; one that his mentor would have hated. Even in the heat of battle, his mind was on the future not the present.

She easily parried his attack and disarmed him with a flick of the wrist. The short sword fell to the ground. Before he could react, her sword rested against the flesh of his neck.

"Dead again?" She smiled, flashing her perfect, white teeth. "What's wrong tonight? You're fighting like a Twelve."

"Nothing." Ry dropped his shield and pushed the dull, sparring blade away from his neck. He walked over to his water bottle. "Just anxious..." He took a swig.

Blaise blinked at him and ran a hand through her tangled hair. "You need to relax, Ry. There's nothing more we can do..." She gave him a faint smile. "We're at our peak. It's time to stop pretending and play for real."

Ry ignored her and looked out a window, lost in thought. The faintest hint of light seeped into the dark gym.

The training gym was rarely empty in District 1. It was usually filled with the sounds of whistles, arrows thumping into targets, and mentors shouting at Potential Careers. Children and mentors filled the gymnasium during all hours of the day. They would train all day and sleep all night, grateful for the rest. No one trained at night. There was no artificial lighting in the giant one story arena. The only light came from the giant glass, window panes that covered the walls of the otherwise undecorated gym. Ry had trained at night before. Every career had to learn to fight in the dark. However, this was the first time he had trained alone in the dark.

Earlier in the night he had decided to come to the gym and get some final practice before the Reaping. He had been surprised to find that Blaise was already there, shooting arrows at moving targets. They had sparred for hours, exchanging little words, and resting only for water breaks.

Despite all the sparring, Ry was unable to get the thoughts out of his head. He had been restless and unable to concentrate on the fight. His aspirations would soon be fulfilled. In a matter of weeks, he would win the Hunger Games. And it all started today...

With a grunt, Ry picked up his gladius and walked over to the weapon rack, "It's almost time..." His voice was gravelly and harsh, as if his throat was hoarse. "I'll see you at the Reaping." Ry spun towards the door and took a step to leave. Suddenly, a hand reached out and grabbed his. "Wha-"

"Your vest..." Blaise cut him off, "You're still wearing the vest."

"Oh..." Ry looked down at the leather jerkin he was wearing. It was the training vest that he had received, when he was chosen from his peers to be the District 1 career for the 54th Hunger Games. It was as much a part of him as his right hand. His own sweat, blood and grime were caked in this vest. Funky smell and all, Ry loved that vest. But...careers weren't supposed to care for anyone or anything. Careers don't have attachments. Duty always comes first.

He raised his hand to untie the vest, but his fingers started shaking. Embarrassed of his visible exhaustion, he tried pulling the lace quickly. However, the knot just tightened as he pulled, and got even more tangled.

Ry cursed under his breath and went to untie it again, but stopped when he felt a pair of hands on his chest. He moved up his gaze to see Blaise staring right at him.

Time seemed to stand still as the two tributes gazed at one another. In that instant, Ry could count the freckles that were splashed across her nose, and the small birthmarks that dotted her cheek. He could see the beads of sweat on her forehead and the thin scar below her cheekbone.

He knew her face as well as his own. They had been training in the same gym as long as Ry could remember. Ever since they had been chosen as the careers for the same year, they had spent many hours training with one another. Although he would never admit it, they had an unspoken bond. Ry hated it...Attachment was weakness. Weakness was death.

Blaise trailed a finger down his chest to the lacing and began to undo the knot. As she worked she occasionally looked back up, making eye contact with him. Her light green eyes seemed to shine in the morning light, as if she were about to cry. But that was ridiculous...

Careers don't cry.

Quickly, she dropped eye contact and went back to work. When she finished, Ry shook off the vest and tossed it aside. He turned to leave again, but she grabbed his hand again.

Ry's dark eyebrows furrowed, "We need to go. The Reaping is-"

"Can you help me?" Blaise interrupted again, smiling softly in the faint light. She turned her back to him and lifted up her mess of fiery, orange curls.

Sighing, Ry unzipped the back of her leather jerkin and helped her take it off. As soon as he was finished, Ry walked towards the double doors of the gym.

"Rhyne?" Blaise shouted after him.

Ry grit his teeth and turned around to face her for the umpteenth time. "Yes?" His frustration was evident.

"Do you want to...um...talk-"

"No." He turned his back to her and slammed the doors open. Brisk, morning air flooded the gym. Ry clenched his jaw and watched the rising sun in front of him. Careers don't run. Careers don't _talk._

They kill.

Virtue. Diligence. Honor. Those were his words. This was his day.

Ry walked towards his house to get ready for the Reaping. He closed his eyes as he walked and drifted back into his thoughts...

For a second, he could hear them... All of District 1 was filled with the sound of victory. Mothers wept with joy. Children looked on with wide eyes. Even Peacekeepers offered salutes. Everyone was clapping and shouting his name...

For a second, he led the procession.

For a second, he was their victor.

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><p><strong>AN **

**Hey guys, hope you all enjoyed this chapter. If you have any qualms, criticism, or questions feel free to PM me! I will update frequently, so make sure to follow this story. Review, Review, Review!**

**About This Chapter: **Well, this one sucked. Hahaha. For some reason I decided to completely change Ry's character halfway through the chapter. Then I had to go back and rewrite the whole thing. Originally Rhyne was going to be an overconfident career. Real cocky and loud mouthed. But as I wrote him, I realized that I liked him better as the 'army' type. Virtue, diligence and honor really define Ry. The hard part of this chapter was trying to make it different than other HG fics. Usually, fics start with the Reaping and a bunch of exposition about the characters. Here I try to show more than I tell (of course I fail, but this is a learning process so hopefully I'll get better in time!). Also, the lack of dialogue was hard for me. I love dialogue, but sometimes no dialogue can be as effective as a monologue. I rewrote this chapter about four times...and I'm still not thrilled with the end result. Hopefully the next ones will be easier!

~Chase~


	3. District 5: Morgan

**Chapter 2**

**Smiling Swine**

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><p><strong>District 5<strong>

**MORGAN**

The glass bottle slipped out of her left hand and fell to the ground, shattering everywhere. _Oops._

Morgan stared at the destroyed bottle, then shrugged and took a long draught out of the bottle in her right hand. Commuting power plant workers stared at her as if she had just dropped a really expensive bottle of spirits. Well...

_Let them look,_ she thought, _stupid human robots. Working in that damn power plant every day... Life isn't about jobs or 'being responsible'._

Morgan took another slug from the bottle, swishing it around in her mouth before spitting it out in front of a passerby.

She cackled at his horrified expression. "Here...for your trouble." Morgan reached into her pocket and threw him a small bag of coins that constituted her daily allowance. "Use it to buy something other than those tacky overalls...for god's sake."

The man looked confused, but he quickly scooped up the money and ran towards the plant.

Sighing, Morgan took another swig of her liquor and sat down on a bench. Living the real life was a lot of fun. But it was pretty lonely sometimes...

She put the bottle down on the street and took out the pipe that was in her coat pocket. Its name was Sparky, and it was her most prized possession. She lit the pipe quickly and took a long draw.

Morgan sighed as she watched the adults file past her like worker ants. Every day they went to work, leaving all the children at trade school. Well, almost all of the children. Being the mayor's daughter had its advantages. She had first started playing hooky on her 13th birthday and hadn't gone to school since. Discovering alcohol was her first step to greatness, but it was Sparky that really opened up her mind. When she smoked and drank, her mind became clear and she could see things like no one else could. It was amazing...really...

Morgan took another swig of the bottle. Finished. _Damn_.

All of a sudden, she felt an elbow dig into her side, followed by a voice, "'Oye, would you mind lending me a drink, Missy?"

Morgan glared distastefully at the boy who was, unfortunately, sat next to her. "No. Anyway, why would I _lend_ you a drink? What are you going to do, puke it back up and hand it to me?" She gave him the empty bottle, "It's empty anyway genius."

"Oh, well then..." the boy said mockingly, taking the bottle and chucking it over his shoulder. It smashed on the pavement behind them. He smiled at her, challenging her.

Morgan frowned. The boy was too...relaxed. His cocky smile was too...genuine. It was almost like he didn't care what others thought of him. He was too young to be working, but he wasn't at school. So, he had to be a street rat.

There were a couple of urchins in District 5. They just moped around, begged for coin, or wasted it all on booze and gambling. Dirty and grimy, the street urchins were usually orphans whose parents had died in power plant accidents. Most people in District 5 hated them. But, Morgan wasn't 'most people'.

She sighed, content with her excellent detective skills, and took another drag of her pipe."Here." She said and offered it to the guy.

The boy took the pipe from her and studied it in his dirty hands. "Aren't you a little young for smoking?"

"Your Mother didn't seem to think I was too young last night!" she laughed, taking Sparky back. "In fact, she said I had many...talents."

"Mmm, I bet." he said, distantly. He stared at her as if pondering something.

"What?"

"How you get all this crap?" His dark brown eyes stared at her pipe. "Liquor isn't cheap...and that pipe..."

"My daddy's rich, I'm young, and I've got all the time in the world." Morgan shrugged. "I'm more free than all of you suckers." She took a puff of her pipe and tried to blow a smoke ring.

"Wait...you'rethe _mayor's_ daughter?! The one they're always talking about!" He leaned away from her and whistled as if he'd hit the jackpot.

"And _you're _a stinkin' street rat..." She looked at his dirty face and shaggy brown hair, "But...no one ever talks about you...How odd."

"Meh." He shrugged and scratched his head, thinking. Suddenly, that damn sarcastic smile re-appeared on his face, "So what's it like?"

"What's, _what_ like?"

The boy blinked, "Having all that money."

"It's...fun? "

"Fun?" The boy laughed, "Fun enough to buy me a drink?" He asked with that stupid, stupid grin plastered on his face.

Morgan sighed and rolled her eyes. "Why do you want a drink? Shouldn't you be at home getting ready for the Reaping tonight?"

Redd shrugged, "I don't have anyone to get ready with. Might as well get drunk..."

Morgan stood up and pointed at him, "I knew you were a ratboy!" Her detective skills were never wrong.

"A what?"

"A Ratboy. You're a street orphan." She stood up and extinguished her pipe. "I'm Morgan, by the way. Morgan Westing. But you probably already knew that." She started walking towards the shacks near the edge of town. If you had enough money, you could get practically anything in the slums...even if you were the mayor's daughter.

The boy smiled again and hauled himself off the bench, "Redd. I'm Redd. Not Ratboy..."

"Well Ratboy, it's nice to meet you." Morgan laughed harshly.

"You're really bad at conversations." Redd followed her towards the slums.

"Shut up."

"Yes, your highness."

"Shut up!"

...

Morgan and Redd stumbled into the crowd, seriously drunk. They had spent the entire day drinking together in the slums.

They were in the middle of a serious challenge of who could belch the longest, when Peacekeepers had dragged them to the town square for the Reaping.

"Welcome, Welcome, Welcome...Before we begin..." The announcer repeated the same speech every year. Out of boredom, Morgan turned towards Redd and slapped him hard across the face.

"Hey!" He recoiled backwards, "Wha was that foor?" Redd slurred

"Your face looked like it needed a good slappin', Ratboy." She giggled

"Goddammit!" He snarled before bursting out into laughter. The Peacekeepers quickly moved in and separated them. They pulled Morgan away from her new friend and towards the girls.

"Ladies first!" The announcer put his hand in the bowl and fished out a slim piece of paper. He opened it and read, "Morgan Westing."

"Crap."

...

Eventually, the Peacekeepers were able to drag her on to the stage. She stood there, slowly rocking back and forth on her heels. All of their eyes were watching her every move. For once, she was in the spotlight. This was her time to do something memorable...something that the world could remember her by.

Slowly, she raised her right hand in a fist and held it high. Then, with elegant grace, she extended her middle finger.

There were a few gasps in the crowd, and she could almost make out Redd's giggles in the boy's section. The announcer next to her pulled her hand down and awkwardly coughed.

"Yes, yes." He said, stammering, "Boys..." The announcer pulled a name out of the other bowl. "Theodore Ferris."

"F*** it! I VOLUNTEER!"

Morgan couldn't help but laugh as a very, very drunk Redd pushed his way through the crowd.

"I volunteer..." He hiccupped, "I volunteer as tribute!" Redd's laughter was the only sound in the entire District.

It was amazing.

The announcer cleared his throat awkwardly, "Well...um...Congratulations to the District 5 tributes for the 54th Hunger Games."

As the cameras zoomed in on them, Redd laughed again, "Whadda ya know? I'm feelin' kinda _hungry._" Then he threw up everywhere.

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><p><strong>AN **

**Hey guys, hope you all enjoyed this chapter. If you have any qualms, criticism, or questions feel free to PM me! I will update frequently, so make sure to follow this story. Review, Review, Review!**

**About This Chapter: **Oh boy. Every story needs its comedy. Even in a sick sort of way. I love the dynamic between Redd and Morgan. Two completely different people, raised in different environments, that end up in the same place. The spoils of the rich and toils of the poor often lead down the same road...Wow, that was strangely philosophic. Hahaha. But anyways, this chapter was much easier to write than Ry's. I know there wasn't a lot of growth in their relationship. It went kind of straight from meeting to acting like best friends. But they were drunk! So when they sober up, they will have to actually become friends...or enemies. We shall see. :D Next chapter is District 7, and will be much longer. It should be up by Monday. I'm going to try to post a chapter every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. So follow the story and make sure not to miss anything! And please please please review 3 Also, virtual cookies to whoever figures out the secret behind the chapter names. And a big thanks to the guest reviewer on my poor math skills :)

~Chase~


	4. District 7: Jake, Erice, M

**Chapter 3**

**The Bitter Suite**

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><p><strong>District 7<strong>

**JAKE**

Today was the day.

The doors burst open and Jake Lylow emerged from the confines of the District 7 School. He took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of fresh pine, and smiled.

Today was going to be a good day.

Jake tossed his pack over to his friend, Mark. "I gotta run, I'll catch you later man."

Mark groaned and caught Jake's bookbag, "You always do this! Since you started seeing her, you stopped having fun." Mark sighed, "C'mon man, the Reaping's tomorrow. This might be the last night we spend together! Ben's having a party tonight in Quadrant 14. You should come..."

Jake laughed and slapped Mark on the back, "I'll stop by. I promise. And you know me, I always-"

"You always keep your promises." Mark finished for him. "I know...I know..." He started walking down the steps with Jake. "I'm telling you man, she's ruining you..."

Jake laughed and punched him in the arm. "Piss off. Don't you have some party to be preparing for?"

"Fine." Mark smiled and turned to leave, "Don't forget, Quadrant 14. It's invite only, so keep it on the down low." He looked sideways, "Peacekeepers are no fun. Especially right before the Reaping..."

Jake smirked, "Will do. See you later." He turned towards Quadrant 9 and set off running, leaving Mark behind.

Jake made his way through the trees, weaving in and out. Like any rambunctious kid in District 7, he had learned the paths that Peacekeepers patrolled...and how to avoid them.

Every now and then he would pass a lumberjack at work. District 7 laborers toiled day and night, cutting down trees and dragging them to the manufacturing site. Once you turned 18, you were given a government mandated axe and assigned a Quadrant. Most workers spent the rest of their lives in that Quadrant, cutting down and replanting trees. Although many were unhappy with the long hours and hard work, Jake was looking forward to his 18th birthday. It was a simple life, but it was an appealing one. District 7 peacekeepers weren't as strict as they were probably supposed to be, and often let the workers go unsupervised. As long as they fulfilled their quota, lumberjacks could spend most of their day alone or amongst a group of friends.

Jake Lylow hopped over a large stone and continued running. He had learned at a young age how to run on leaves without sounding like a clumsy bear, and how to climb trees effortlessly. The forest was his home, and he loved every inch of it. But there was one thing that he loved more than the sounds of birds singing and the crunching leaves underneath his feet...

_Autumn._

He found her deep in the woods, about a mile or so from any of the other workers. She always worked alone, aside from the company of nature...and Jake.

He came to a halt and leaned against a nearby tree. A smile played on his lips as he watched the girl in front of him. Oblivious to her onlooker, she hummed a District folk song to herself and braided her hair. Her axe was discarded to the side, surrounded by fallen branches.

Unable to resist himself, Jake walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around the small girl. "Hey babe..."

She squealed when he grabbed her and laughed, "Who are you? And why are your arms around me!?"

Jake backed up and smirked, "Wow! I am _so_ sorry. I must have mistaken you for someone else..." He laughed at the jest and gave a mock bow, "I'm Jake. Jake Lylow."

Her sparkling blue eyes blinked, innocently "Jake… it sounds familiar...but I can't say I've heard of you you," she smiled shyly. "I'm Autumn Waters."

Jake ran a hand through his black hair, "Oh! You're _THE _Autumn Waters. As in, the most-beautiful-girl-on-the-planet, who also happens to be my girlfriend?" He smiled.

Autumn rolled her eyes and put her arms around his neck, "You flatter me." She kissed him quickly and then picked up her axe, "How was your day?"

"Oh you know...I started a fight, hooked up with a teacher, got sent to the dean, and burned down the school...The usual stuff." Jake pulled himself up, on to a low, hanging branch. He sat there, feet dangling off the ground. Silently, he extended an open hand to her, offering her a help up.

Autumn shook her head, "Not today, Jake. I'm behind on my quota." She sighed and pulled at her blonde braid, as she often did when she was stressed.

Jake hopped off the branch and landed next to her. "Here. Let me help..." He reached for her axe.

"No!" She stepped back from him. Jake's eyebrows furrowed at her uncharacteristically, strong reaction. "I mean...no." She sighed and looked away from him, towards the horizon. "You always do more than you should. What will I do if we...?" She coughed awkwardly, "...when you turn 18, next month? You won't be able to help me then." Autumn twirled the axe in her hand, "I have to keep the pace without your help."

Jake frowned, "I'm just trying to help... I like spending time with you"

She smiled sadly and looked at the ground, "I know Jake...I know." She sighed "Sorry I freaked out on you. Will you help me with this last tree? Then we can spend some time together." She tugged at her braid again "Besides, the Reapings are tomorrow. We should enjoy this night. It may be our last."

Jake smiled and took the axe out of her hand, "Sounds good...I'll chop, you clear?"

She nodded and the two of them got to work.

Together, they cut down the tree and dragged it back to the Quadrant 9 base. It was tiresome work, but Jake enjoyed the simple work.

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><p>When they finished, the two decided to go on a walk through the woods.<p>

"Thanks Jake." Autumn smiled. She took his hand in hers. "For everything..."

"Of course. I'd do anything for you." He squeezed her hand.

She frowned and gazed off into the sunset, "No. Don't say that, Jake."

"Say what?"

Autumn looked down at the ground, "Nothing..." She murmured, letting go of his hand.

Jake frowned and stopped walking, "What is it, Autumn? You've been distant all day."

"We should talk..." She looked down.

"Huh?"

"...After the Reapings." She cleared her throat and rubbed her eyes.

Jake frowned, unsure of what to make of those words, "Is everything okay?" He reached up and brushed a strand of hair out of her face.

"Yeah...How are you? Worried about tomorrow?" She grabbed his hand and started walking again.

He shrugged and followed her, "There's no point in worrying. I either get reaped or I don't. There's no controlling my fate." He paused and stared into his girlfriend's blue eyes, "I worry for you."

"Don't." She kicked a rock in the path. "I'm only in 8 times." She said, pointedly. Autumn had two older brothers who still helped support the family. Unlike most people in the district, she didn't have to trade her name for tesserae.

"15..."

"Huh?"

"My name's in there 15 times." Jake said softly.

She squeezed his hand, "It's not _that _much. There are a lot of boys in the District 7..."

Jake smiled at her, "Thanks. But, like I said, it's nothing I can control."

Suddenly, the trees disappeared around them and they were alone in the middle of a large field of grass. Waning light from the setting sun filtered through the surrounding wood and bathed the clearing in a golden hue. Jake couldn't help but smile and run out to the middle of the field like a six year old kid on his birthday. He stood in the middle of the field with his arms out, staring into the sunset, with his mouth slightly open.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Autumn walk up beside him. Jake turned his head, to study her in the fading light.

She was just, so...beautiful. There was no other word to describe it. Bathed in light, her woven hair looked like golden silk, and her blue eyes shined brighter than any other color Jake had ever seen.

"I love you." His words were so quiet, he was unsure if he had even said it.

Autumn's eyes went wide. "Jake..." She looked away from him. "I...uh. I-I have to go."

Jake blushed, embarrassed of his words and her reaction to them, "Um..."

"I'll see you tomorrow?" She stared at him, as if searching him for something.

"Yeah...Tomorrow..."

"See you soon." Quickly she turned from him and started running off into the forest, braid whipping against her back.

Jake let out a pent up breath and dropped to the ground. He lay there, staring up at the darkening sky, cursing himself.

_Idiot. Why would you say that. You know that she's not good with attachment._

Jake and Autumn had been dating for five months or so. Over the weeks, she had told him time and time again that she didn't want anything super serious. She didn't want the whole 'dinner with parents' thing, or the 'boyfriend, girlfriend' thing. At first, it was fun and easy. He snuck out to meet her every day. They had spent all of their free time together, kissing and laughing in the woods. But as the weeks passed, Autumn had grown distant. Every time he asked her to explain what was wrong, she always gave him an incomplete answer. Saying the _'l-word' _was a stupid move. Of course, she had run off. It wasn't unexpected. But deep down, he wished that she would have said it back.

* * *

><p>Jake lay in the grass for an hour or so, until it was dark. His mind was racing. All he could think about was what he had done.<p>

It was wrong. He should have never said those words.

But he meant it... Jake Lylow was in love with Autumn Waters.

She was like no other girl he had ever dated. When he talked to her, things just clicked. When he was with her, he never had to try. Her smiles lit up her entire face and every time she laughed he couldn't help but grin. They had spent long nights walking in the forest, just talking. Autumn and Jake shared secrets, stories, and their inner feelings. It was like no other connection Jake had ever had. It was...magical.

Groaning, Jake stood up and shook his head.

Everything was quiet in the moonlit clearing. Well, almost everything...

In the distance, he could hear the faint sounds of people shouting.

_The party._

Jake groaned once more and slapped his forehead. Even though it was the last thing he wanted to do, he had promised Mark that he would go. Jake always kept his promises.

With a huff, Jake stuck his hands in his pockets and started walking towards Quadrant 14.

* * *

><p><strong>ERICE<strong>

Erice yawned as he left his clients' house. Surprisingly, the sun had set and the moon was high in the sky. They must have gone overtime. Erice absently shrugged to himself and started heading towards Quadrant 14.

The moonlight reflected off his auburn hair, bathing it in a silver hue. His face was set in a handsome expression that hinted at intelligence and superiority. Erice wasn't the best. But, he _was_ pretty awesome.

Everybody wanted Erice; even the ladies with rich husbands and large purses. Peacekeepers wives, the occasional merchant woman, even the Mayor's wife: Annette. He had them all wound around his finger. They were all playing his little game, and had no idea. In exchange for his...services, Erice received all the coin he desired and other small, precious things: gifts, favors, secrets. Whatever they had, Erice got.

However, tonight he was meeting a special girl. She was stunningly beautiful, and had a boyfriend to boot! They had been secretly seeing each other for a month now. It wasn't love or any stupid crap like that. He simply enjoyed having a woman his own age. Old ladies, although more experienced, lacked the beauty of an 18 year old.

Erice was supposed to meet her at a party in Quadrant 14. Although teenage parties were generally beneath him, the Reapings were tomorrow, and Erice didn't want to die without kissing his pretty girl one last time.

As he walked, Erice began to sing to himself. His rich baritone voice filled the air. The foreign words sounded like velvet and honey. They were sensual yet sweet.

"J'ai vous ai aimé toute ma vie, j'espère que nous pas pièce jamais, parce que cette prise que vous avez est forte, seulement vous pourriez avoir mon coeur. " He sung to the moon and the stars and to anyone that would listen. Erice stopped under a large red oak tree as he came to the end of his song. "Personne m'incitera jamais à sentir la manière que vous, je suis à vous et vous êtes la mienne." He threw back his head as he belted out the final note, the sweet, clear tone of his voice reaching the pinnacle of sound that made him shudder with pleasure.

He smiled into the twilight and continued walking to the party.

* * *

><p>Finally, he saw it. There was a large bonfire and lots of unattractive, adolescent teenagers. Some even had the guts to steal some alcohol from their parents. <em>Oh, how rebellious! <em>Erice laughed to himself and pushed his way through the crowd.

Suddenly, someone grabbed his arm and forcefully pulled him to the side. Erice turned to his assailant, ready to punch the living daylights out of them. But it was just her. "Oh hey, Autumn." His voice was crisp and melodic.

Her eyes closed and she murmured something inaudibly, under her breath. Then she pushed him up against a tree.

"Playing tough tonight?" Erice chuckled. However, his laugh was cut short as she smashed her lips into his own. The kiss was rough and sloppy, as if she needed the kiss more than she wanted it. Erice tilted his head, expertly, and deepened the kiss.

After a few moments, she pulled away from him. "Where were you?" She whispered, flushed from the kiss. "I-I needed you."

Erice carefully considered the beautiful girl. He couldn't exactly tell her that he had been at the mayor's house. Or that he had just banged Annette. Heck, he couldn't even tell her that he had hopped out of her window to prevent being seen and possibly executed for the affair... and that on his way to the party he had stopped by _another _client's house. No, he would never tell her that.

Erice leaned in close so his breath tickled her ear, "Wouldn't you like to know."

Autumn shivered slightly when he spoke, but then took a step back and said, "Uh...Yes, I would like to know," she said, eyeing him carefully. "You promised me you would be here..."

He smirked, but his eyes held the tiniest hint of anger. Erice never promised anyone, anything. If he did, he would rarely follow through on them. Being unpredictable was a useful trait. As far as he was concerned, Erice was too pretty to have his head blown full of holes by a firing squad.

"I don't mean to sound rude..." His voice was soft, "but I'm here now. Why worry about the past? Isn't that your _thing? _ No attachments. Nothing serious? Does it matter where I was?" His smile was flawless.

"Just...stop...please..." Her voice wavered as if she were about to cry

Erice wrapped his arms around her waist. "Autumn." He murmured in his rich, baritone voice. "Autumn, look at me..."

She raised her eyes, "Erice..." Her hands wrapped around his back, holding him close "Why are we doing this?"

"Look above us! The stars are shining. The moon is full. We're young, reckless and free. Tomorrow, one of us might be gone. This may be our last night with one another. All I want is to be happy." He bent down so that his nose was touching hers, "And you make me happy."

Autumn stared into his eyes for a second then kissed him with more fervor than before.

* * *

><p>"Autumn?!"<p>

Erice opened his eyes and saw a guy staring at them. The boy's face was pained, as if he had been stabbed by an invisible attacker. Erice was no stranger to that expression. He had seen it on many men's faces, but he had never worn it himself.

That look only came from betrayal.

Autumn pulled away from Erice and turned to the newcomer, "Jake!" Her eyes shifted back to Erice, then back to the boy, "It's not-I'm not-I..." She trailed off, tongue tied. Quickly, she turned to Erice. He was unsure if she wanted him to leave, or bail her out.

Erice sighed and took a step forward, between the two. "Look, kid..."

"What!?" Jake cut him off. The boy's expression turned from one of pain, to anger. "Why-Who is this guy!?" He took a step forward, fists clenched.

Erice couldn't help but grin. Autumn's boyfriend was a few inches taller than Erice and quite fit, but he would be no competition in a fight. Erice had a good twenty pounds on the kid. It was all muscle. "Hey kid. Let's cool down now."

Autumn pushed Erice out of the way and ran to Jake, grabbing his arm, "Jake...I was going to tell you, it's just-"

"Is this why you've been so weird lately? Were you just hooking up with this meathead behind my back all this time?" Jake pulled away from her

"I prefer the term body-builder...or just _naturally good looking_." Erice chimed in. Unsurprisingly, they both ignored him.

Autumn started crying, "Jake, please..."

"How long?"

"I'm sorry, Jake..."

"How long!"

Erice yawned and walked over to a nearby log and sat down. This would probably go on for another few minutes or so. Then one of them would storm off, eventually. That was the way it always worked.

Erice casually picked at his perfect fingernails, "A month, maybe two?"

The life seemed to drain out of Jake's face. The boy was defeated. "I was in _love _with you." He whispered to Autumn.

"Uh oh." Erice gasped in mock surprise. "Did he just say, _love?_" Once again, they both ignored him.

"You always do that!" Autumn shoved a finger at Jake's face. "You always had to be the perfect guy, watching my back every step of the day. Maybe, I didn't want that! I told you that I didn't want anything serious, and you made it serious. No matter where I was or what I was doing, you were always there! You never gave me the space I needed. I wasn't living!"

Jake's eyes started welling up with tears, "I'm...I'm going to go now." He turned from them and was swallowed up by the crowd.

"Well, that could have gone worse!" Erice smiled and stood up, stretching. "Ready for Round 2?"

Autumn slowly turned around to face him, "_You.._." She snarled. "Don't talk to me."

Erice raised an eyebrow, "Hey, this isn't my fault."

Autumn just grit her teeth and stormed off in the opposite way that Jake had gone.

Erice was left alone, surrounded by rowdy, pimple-faced brats. "Balls."

* * *

><p><strong>M<strong>

A girl sat on a tree branch above the bonfire. From her position, she could see everyone at the party, and no one could see her.

Words were stuck in her throat, words she'd like to say aloud to those boys and girls. But it was better to hear things, to see things that people never could notice.

Did they notice? Did they notice how exactly the same they were?

M wished that they could see themselves from afar. As she saw them now... But that was silly. Wishes never came true.

Dreams don't exist.

M felt that familiar emptiness in her chest. If only someone could see through her eyes, understand how she felt, be who she was. If only. If only...

Was there anyone else like her?

The girl imagined it, how it would be if she started to talk. She imagined being in that party below her, and the sound of people talking _to _her. Friends.

But the girl, M, had no friends. She never did.

She looked at her hands and the way the moonlight illuminated her skin. If only everyone knew the things she did, things would be much better. Much, much better. And maybe if people say the world the way she did, there wouldn't be anything as ridiculous as the Hunger Games or the Capitol and maybe she would have more to eat than rotten apples and acorn paste.

But that was a wish. And wishes never come true...

No one listens.

No one will ever listen.

Nothing changes.

M Eyse was there. She always was. The unseen saw all.

She sat above them, watching. She watched the fight happen between a boy with black hair and a girl with blonde hair. She watched a boy pour alcohol over his friend, and a small girl almost catch fire in the bonfire.

Hours ticked by, and the sun rose. M was unsure if she had fallen asleep, or if the party had just disappeared overnight. The only sign that anything had occurred at all, was the large pile of ash in the middle of the forest.

M gingerly made her way down from her hiding place. Why had they all left so quickly? Usually at least some kids slept there overnight...

_The Reaping_!

Quickly, she sprinted towards the town square. If she missed the Reaping, the Peacekeepers would hunt her down and maybe hurt her. M didn't want to die...

* * *

><p>The small girl ran into the town square. Luckily, everyone was still shuffling around. There was still time.<p>

Quickly, she allowed the Peacekeeper to prick her finger and went to stand with the other girls. Her chest was still heaving from the long run and her mouse-brown hair was matted to her forehead in sweat. Any other girl would have been embarrassed in this situation. But M didn't care what others thought of her.

She watched them.

She saw the way they visibly shook, panicked. She saw the beads of sweat rolling down their necks, and the way they dug their shoes in the ground. They were scared.

"Mellie Eyse."

M's blood froze in her chest. She whipped her head towards the stage. There was a lady in front of the podium, looking out into the crowd. The lady cleared her throat and read the slip of paper in her hand again "…Mellie Eyse?"

M was invincible. No one could touch her. She didn't exist in their little realm of lumberjacks and carpenters. She was an immortal...and that little slip of paper was her Achilles' heel.

One small slip of paper changed everything.

A Peacekeeper grabbed her arm and started pulling her towards the stage.

M didn't know if she was supposed to cry, start screaming, or try to fight her assailant. Instead, her face just remained devoid of expression.

M was a piece of driftwood, floating along the stream of life. Unable to alter the course...and this small stream led to a giant waterfall...a fall she would not survive.

* * *

><p>Finally, she reached the podium. The lady next to her said something, but M just stared at the crowd, blankly. Her mind was racing, trying to comprehend what had just happened.<p>

How could everything change with just two words? Two simple words had killed her...and M couldn't do anything about it.

They had taken her smile. They had taken her words. They had taken her friends and her enemies. Now, they were taking her life too.

* * *

><p><strong>JAKE<strong>

Jake rubbed his weary eyes as he stood in the Town Square.

His night had been restless and utterly horrible. For hours, he had berated himself. He had run different scenarios in his mind. He composed grand schemes to fix his situation and dreamt of new worlds where everything was better. He visualized a world where Autumn loved him, and there was no...other boy.

_You're too clingy...She's with another man_. _She doesn't love you_. _She never loved you. _

The words kept replaying in his head, like a looping record.

"Ladies first."

Despite everything that happened, he still prayed, silently, to whatever god that was listening. _Don't call Autumn. Take me, not her...Please..._

"Mellie Eyse."

Jake let out a sigh of relief.

The girl that was led up to the stage was unfamiliar. It was always easier that way. If it had been one of his friends...If it had been Autumn...

He shifted from one foot to the other. The collared shirt that his mother had prepared for him was stifling in the hot Town Square. Jake sorely missed his black hoodies and loose shirts. Just one more uncomfortable hour, and he would be back in the forest; back where he belonged.

As he waited for them to call a boy's name, he saw Erice Marker to his right. The _model_ was clenching and unclenching his fists, muttering to himself, "_Not me…Not me…I'm too pretty. Much too pretty..."_

Jake clenched his jaw. How could Autumn be hooking up with a guy as shallow as Erice Marker? Everyone in the town knew about Erice. All the girls wanted to do him, and all the guys wanted to be him.

Jake's jaw muscle twitched in anger, but he kept his cool.

He craned his neck to try and see Autumn in the crowd of girls to his left. She was-

"Jake Lylow."

Slowly, Jake turned towards the platform.

_Jake Lylow…me...?_

His legs moved before his mind could even _begin_ to register what had happened.

Suddenly, he was up on the stage with no recollection of how he had gotten there...but there he was. He saw the entire District below him. Part of him expected to see sadness or pain on their faces. But all he saw was...relief.

Jake stared blankly at them all.

Jake Lylow was no longer one of them. His days of running in the forest and chopping down trees were over.

He was...reaped?

* * *

><p><strong>M<strong>

A boy came up the stage.

M's mind was a rush of ideas and feelings

She wasn't supposed to exist. Things like this weren't supposed to happen.

For the first time in a long time, M felt powerless.

They closed the jar and took away the names.

The little slips of paper were like snow. Little snowflakes are meaningless. But together, snowflakes form a deadly blizzard.

It had killed her.

The Reaped boy faced her as if he expected her to say something.

M said nothing.

She studied his face. He had bright green eyes that seemed intelligent, and short black hair that was puffed up in the front. He had a beautiful face and a muscular body. He was one of _those _people. His face would be all over commercials and posters for the Hunger Games. He would make an excellent tribute...

Everyone would forget about Mellie Eyse. M would be deadweight.

Finally the boy seemed to gather his wits, "Well, this sucks." He choked out. The boy looked as if he had been to hell and back. "We're in this together now. You and me..." He sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair, "Sounds like a good team."

Team.

M had no idea what that word meant. The words she usually used in her head were words like ' alone ' and ' beautiful ' and ' desolate '.

' Lies ' was also one of those words. And M certainly wasn't stupid. She knew this boy, already, though they'd never spoken. But she knew his type so well...

She could tell. The way he talked and held himself…he could never be trusted.

At least, not by her.

The only time a person like him would even glance at her, was in a situation like this. He was probably already plotting her death.

Disgusting.

* * *

><p>Eventually, they were led to the Mayor's house to say their final goodbyes. M knew no one would come. She had no parents. She had no friends. She had no one.<p>

So why was someone standing in her door frame?

Surprising...very surprising…

The man standing before her was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. His face looked as if it had been carved out of marble, and his eyes held an unrelenting smolder. If she had been any normal girl, she probably would have fallen in love with him at first sight. But M was not any_ normal _girl.

"Here," his voice was smooth and melodic, like the rustling of pine branches in the breeze. "Take this as your token." The boy pulled a small whistle made of wood out of his pocket.

M decided to speak. After all, it was a special occasion. "Why? Who are you?" Her voice was soft, almost as if she was whispering.

The boy studied her, "I'm Erice Marker." He rubbed the whistle between his two fingers. "I always give reaped girls a token to remember the District. Call it an act of charity, or whatever." Erice stared into her eyes with that smoldering gaze. It made her weak in the knees.

"I've never-" but she _had_ seen the boy before. She had watched him sing in the forest before. His voice was...beautiful, just like everything else about him. "I've never seen you before. Ever." She lied. "Why would you give this to me?"

"Blow it if you're in trouble, and maybe help will come..." He looked around as if expecting someone to have overheard his words, "I mean...uh...Don't blow it when careers are nearby." He smiled, charmingly.

"I…I don't understand." M whispered.

He touched her arm lightly, "Good luck, Mellie Eyse."

Her throat was closed up, as the Peacekeeper appeared in the doorframe. It was time to go. She followed the man out of the room, leaving Erice alone. On her way she choked out a small, "Thank you."

He didn't hear her.

* * *

><p><strong>JAKE<strong>

Jake's parents were the first to come see him. He told them that everything was going to be fine. He told them to keep working and living, no matter what happened. He told them that there was nothing anyone could do. He told them, it was out of their control, so they shouldn't be upset.

They didn't understand. But he didn't expect them to.

Mark and Ben came in quickly to wish him good luck. He clasped their arms and smiled. He told them he would make it home alive, and would fight to the bitter end. But he never made a promise...

Even though they nodded and smiled, their eyes spoke the truth. This was it.

Then _she_ came.

Autumn's hair fell loosely around her shoulders in golden waves. Without her usual braid, she looked even more like a goddess.

Jake turned from her and stared out the window that was across from them, "I'm sorry-"

Suddenly, her hands were around his waist, hugging him tight. "No. I'm sorry. I should have told you."

"Is there anything..." He swallowed, "...anything I could have done differently?"

Autumn pulled away and stared into his eyes, "It's not that simple." Her fingers touched a tear that was rolling down his cheek, "Just..." She moved her lips as if to say more, but no sound came out.

Wordlessly, she slipped a bracelet off her wrist and placed it in his hand. It was made of red oak and had been fashioned into an intricate design. Autumn had never talked about it, but she wore it every day.

"This was my grandfather's." She looked back up at him, tears falling from her eyes, "Bring it back to me...Come back to me, Jake." She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. Then she turned on her heels and swiftly left his room, wiping her eyes on the way out. When she reached the doorframe, she turned around to face him, "Promise me! Swear to me you'll come home!" Tears poured down her cheeks.

Jake Lylow closed his eyes, "I promise."

* * *

><p><strong>AN**

**Hey guys, hope you all enjoyed this chapter. If you have any qualms, criticism, or questions feel free to PM me! I will update frequently, so make sure to follow this story. Review, Review, Review!**

**About This Chapter: **Yes, I know it's late. BUT it's like five times as long as usual. That's like five times the spelling mistakes, five times the horrible writing and rewriting, and five times the headaches as I try to work things out. So, about this chapter...I felt like I did a little bit of too much exposition, in the beginning but it got better towards the end. The characters (especially Erice and M) feel much more alive to me, than any of my other characters. Yes, Jake is a little Gary Stu-ish. For the purposes of this story, his flaw is attachment. I hope to pound this in, in future chapters. But otherwise, I thought Jake's parts came out pretty good. It was pretty hard to capture his emotions from Autumn cheating on him, so I took the cop out root and used Erice's perspective for that bit. Autumn was really hard for me. I kind of picture her personality like 'Summer' from 500 days of Summer and her appearance as Kristin Bell. Haha. But her motives for cheating on Jake will come out in future chapters, so it's not entirely for breaking Jake. Although, I do enjoy making my characters feel bad :3. Erice is my boy. I'll be coming back to him in future D7 chapters, because he's just so much fun to write. This was just a small taste of how AMAZING he will be. And M...well she's always fun to write! Just emotion dump after emotion dump! Hahahaha. Thanks to the people who favorite, followed and reviewed. I love all of you 3.

And just to clarify once and for all: THIS IS NOT A SYOT. I've been getting tons of PMs about it. Sorry ): but I have my own characters in my head, and my story just kinda fits with them.

With love (lessthenthree)

~Chase~


	5. District 10: Ayra

**Chapter 4**

**This Vicious Place**

* * *

><p><strong>District 10<strong>

**AYRA**

Ayra Banelin was flying.

She ran across the grass field, bare feet pounding against the ground. Wind whipped her long, chocolate-brown braid from side to side.

_One, Two, One, Two_… Her pace quickened…_One, Two, One, Tw-_

She stopped short when she saw the sight in front of her.

The chain link fence, before her, signaled the end of the small grazing pasture. Beyond the easily climbable fence, loomed the rest of District 10. Most of the District was composed of massive storage units. The units contained thousands and thousands of chickens, cows, pigs, sheep and other animals. This urban landscape was broken by a few, green pastures.

District 10 livestock lived off manufactured corn and slop. The grass pastures were only maintained for the groomers. Although most animals had to be groomed, horses had to undergo extensive cleaning. They usually let the horses graze outside while they brushed them down. These horses participated in Tribute Parades and other Capitol events. When groomers weren't working, the fields housed reckless children and older workers on break. Everyone tried to enjoy the only grass in the District, if they had free time. Although hopping the fence was considered trespassing, the Peacekeepers of District 10 allowed it.

Ayra let out a disappointed sigh and dropped the dirty boots that she had been holding. Slowly, she slid her bare feet into the boots. They reeked of blood and manure. Before her trip to the pasture, she had come straight from work. Her yellow, bloody jumpsuit was unzipped to the waist, revealing a form-fitting tank top.

She twirled her braid, and looked up at the setting sun. If she didn't hurry home soon, she would miss curfew. Missing curfew in District 10 was a crime punishable at the whipping post. Too many people could attest to that.

As Ayra scrambled over the wire fence, she saw a girl a couple of feet to the left.

The small girl's fingers were tightly wound around the wire fence, making her knuckles turn white. Her brown eyes appeared shiny in the dying light. Ayra had seen the girl before. However, she couldn't remember who the girl was.

Slowly, Ayra hopped down from the fence. Her feet smacked against the grey concrete that covered the roads of District 10. Purposely, Ayra walked towards the girl and leaned against the fence.

The smaller girl stared up at her with big eyes. District 10 teenagers knew who Ayra was. Aside from being one of the most popular girls at school, she was beautiful. Yet, behind closed doors, town members would whisper about her parents and her upbringing. Everyone knew her story. Sometimes, Ayra wondered if the only reason she was even popular was because people felt sorry for her.

Ayra twirled her braid, "Can you imagine living in a place like that?" She gestured to the pasture, "Sometimes I dream about wide open fields. I dream of a place where you could walk barefoot all day, surrounded by tall grass, trees...even flowers." Her voice was soft and relaxed, despite the impending curfew.

The small girl scoffed "Dreams are for the weak." Her fingers tightened their death grip on the fence. "You're Ayra right? Ayra Banelin?" Her eyes shifted back towards the meadow on the other side of the fence.

"That would be me." Ayra blinked. "You come here often?"

"No." She said curtly. "Why are you talking to me?"

"Huh?"

"You're Ayra Banelin. You're one of the most popular girls at school. Guys fawn over you, girls are jealous of you...And I'm Eve Wrenser: a total nobody. I sit right next to you in Homeroom, where they call attendance every day. Every. Day. But you still don't know my name. Why? Because I'm a _nobody_. You haven't talked to me for the whole year, so why start now?" Eve's brown eyes challenged Ayra.

"I..." Ayra took a step back, "I don't understand."

"Don't you have places to be? Where are your catty friends, and your three boyfriends?"

"I'm not datin-"

"Whatever." The chain link fence rattled as Eve pulled away from it. She turned as if to walk away, but paused. "I'm sorry, I'm just really not in a place to talk with anyone right now, let alone you."

Ayra blinked, still shocked from the attack, "Why?" She asked, hesitantly. Although Eve's back was to her, the short girl still seemed to radiate anger.

Eve's shoulder length, brown hair whisked from side to side as she shifted from foot to foot. "My father." She muttered under her breath.

"What about your dad?" Ayra glanced towards the setting sun. It was getting too late for this conversation. However, Ayra could relate to family problems. She sincerely wanted to help.

Almost immediately, Eve whipped around to face Ayra. "I saw him with a woman!" Tears started to roll down her pink cheeks, "Okay? Are you happy now?" Eve's voice sounded strained. "My dad is cheating on my mom! Is that what you wanted to hear? Happy? Can you go back to your popular friends now? Leave me the hell alone!" She stormed off, pushing past bystanders that had turned to look at the commotion, on their way home.

Ayra was left alone, one hand still intertwined in the chain link. No one had ever been that mean to her face. With popularity came benefits, but also drawbacks. Some students hated the more popular kids. That was just the way of it. However, no one had ever berated her like that. No one had made her feel that bad before...except for her parents.

Ayra had overheard most of the story from her friends' folks and older workers in her sector. According to town gossip, Ayra's mother, Katherine, had once been a hero in the District.

Everyone in District 10 was assigned jobs at the age of 16. They were randomly assigned to feeding, grooming, clean-up, breeding, or butchering. After three years, Katherine decided she had enough with butchering. With the help of some older butchers and groomers she campaigned endlessly at the Mayors house to create a farm of animals. The horses, cows, pigs, and chickens in the farm would not be killed, only enjoyed. They would live in empty pastures, and rotate positions every few months, so that all in the District could enjoy the free animals. After a few years of lobbying, Katherine got her wish and the mayor created a new role: 'Caretaking.' It was one of the most popular decisions the mayor made. It provided stress relief for adults, entertainment for children and was the job that every 16 year old desired.

Everyone wanted to be in caretaking. It was easy and rewarding. However, some teenagers saw it just as a way out of harder or more brutal jobs. Ayra's father, Edwin, was one such teenager. Edwin never cared for the animals, or for the connections that could be formed with animals through caretaking. He constantly mistreated the farm animals. If that were not enough, he took up drinking at a young age. Edwin was a horrible influence on the other caretakers, who were all still fairly young.

According to District gossip, Edwin made unreciprocated advances on Katherine and got her pregnant during a drunken night when she was just 20. The result was Ayra and a hastened wedding to avoid any more District judgment.

Katherine and Edwin were the opposite of a happy couple.

Perhaps Katherine stayed with him because of the baby. Maybe a part of her was too scared to leave him. Either way, it was a horrible household to grow up in. Edwin was abusive towards Katherine and even Ayra.

Katherine quickly got depressed. In an attempt to alleviate the pain, she started drinking the same alcohol her husband binged on. Without a sober Katherine to lead the caretakers, the job quickly unraveled. The experiment failed.

Katherine, Edwin and others were reassigned to the old sectors. However, as Ayra's parents continued to drink, they stopped going to work. As a result, they just stopped getting paid. The only reason, Ayra continued to survive in that household, was because of school.

The District 10 School offered free lunches, and there was a work-study program for those that needed to make a little more money for their family. Ayra entered the program when she was 13, and went to the sector that made the most money: butchering. At first, she hated it. But as time passed, she grew more comfortable with the knives and the slaughtering.

Butchering was a tough job. On her first day she was issued a cleaver, a bone saw and two all-purpose knives: one serrated and one smooth blade. Although the cleaver and bone saw were required to stay at the facility, the all-purpose knives weren't counted at the end of the day. Workers would just dump the knives in a large box and pick them up the next day. Ayra didn't drop the knives off. She kept the other two knives sheathed in the large pockets of her jump-suits. Sharp knives came in handy. Mostly, she kept them for defense. Deep down, she feared the day she may have to use them against her father.

When her classmates were assigned jobs, last year, they were all surprised at her ability. Ayra had four years of experience, and was quite good at what she did. Even though she was only working part time, Ayra was one of the better butchers. The killing, cutting and skinning didn't faze her. It was a job. The better job she did, the more likely she was to make a raise. The more money she made, the more food she could eat that week.

After a moment, Ayra snapped out of it "Eve, wait!" She ran after the girl. Her bloody boots pounded on the pavement. After a few seconds, she caught up with the girl and slowed to a walk beside her. "I'm sorry about your dad. I really am." Together, they walked down a winding street.

Eve frowned and muttered, "Doesn't matter. Leave me alone."

Ayra frowned, "You know, I-" She was cut off by a loud siren that wailed throughout the District. The noise was high pitched and bounced off the cement storage units. The sun had set. Five minutes until curfew.

Eve huffed, "I have to leave." She turned towards Ayra, "You should get home too. My friend was out after curfew once...he still has scars."

"Are you sure? Are you okay?"

Eve laughed, sarcastically. "Of course I'm not okay!" She turned her back to Ayra, "Now leave me alone. You're not my friend, and besides I have to get home before curfew."

Ayra frowned, "Well, if you ever need to talk, I'm here."

"Yeah, I got that." Eve turned and sprinted away into the darkening alley.

Ayra sighed.

She looked around and froze. Ayra had no idea where she was.

It was easy to get lost in District 10. Everything was grey, and there were few signs to mark the way. Under circumstances like these, Ayra would usually just wander until she found a storage unit. The units were all numbered and provided a map to the, otherwise, convoluting District. However, Ayra had rarely been lost after sunset. It was dangerous.

Ayra Banelin broke out into a jog. Her jumpsuit swished back and forth as she ran among the winding streets, eyes prowling for a unit.

* * *

><p><em>One, Two, One, Two, One, Two. <em>Ayra's feet struck the pavement faster as her pace quickened.

Suddenly, she skidded to a stop. Ayra had reached a dead end, facing a spirits shop. But the dead end wasn't the reason she had stopped.

Three Peacekeepers were sitting, right in front of her.

They all had their Capitol-regulated helmets removed and they were taking turns sipping from a large bottle.

Ayra froze as the men noticed her.

"Oy, boys! Lookie what we have here." The Peacekeeper with a thick mustache stood up and pointed directly at Ayra.

A nasally voice chimed in, "A girl...and she's out after dark." The second Peacekeeper put the bottle down and rested his hand on his gun.

"Let her go, she's obviously on her way home. " The third Peacekeeper said. Ayra couldn't see his face because he was hidden in the liquor store's shadow.

"Yeah, I was just on my way. I got lost, and my home is literally one block down." Ayra lied, teeth chattering.

Mustache walked closer to her, "And why shud we let Ms. Pretty go?" He slurred

Ayra started backing up, but she was too afraid to actually start running. "Please...I'm only 17. I have school tomorrow." Mustache was closing in on her, forcing her to back towards a wall.

Nasal Voice stood up, "You know the rules, missy. You're out after dark-"

"And she was just leaving." The shadowed Peacekeeper interjected.

Mustache closed in on her. Ayra could smell the alcohol on his breath, and see the irises of his beady eyes. "We could let her go, and not say a word...if she did us a favor." He took another step forward.

Ayra panicked when she found her back against the wall of the alley, "What? No! I'm just getting home!" Her breathing quickened and her fists began to clench.

"Looks like we got ourselves a fighter, boys!" Mustache laughed, white spittle flying from his wet lips.

"I'm not trying to fight!" Ayra nearly shouted.

"Good." Mustache grabbed her arm, "Then you'll do us a service, pretty."

Ayra screamed when he touched her and yanked her arm back. She instinctively put her hand inside the large pocket in her jumpsuit, where she kept her two knives. "Leave me alone!"

"Ivan..." The shadowed man stood up and advanced forward.

"Shut up, Lucien! Why can't we have fun!" Nasal Voice confronted Shadow Man.

Mustache grunted at Shadow Man and turned again to Ayra, "Come here, Ms. Pretty." He reached out for her again.

Ayra whipped the smooth knife out of her pocket, tearing it out of the sheath. The soft leather fell to the cement, discarded. Ayra held the five inch, smooth blade between herself and the Peacekeeper.

"Threatening a Peacekeeper is punishable by death." Nasal Voice walked towards her and Mustache, his hand still on his gun.

"Don't...don't touch me.." Ayra's teeth chattered, as she held the knife out in front of her.

Mustache laughed, "Oy! The girls got a knif! She must be a butcher! Well this is going to be fun!"

Suddenly, he made a move to grab her. Ayra swiped at the man, blindly. She barely missed his arm, but forced him back.

Mustache pulled his arm back and reached for his baton. "Guess we're gonna have to beat it out of this one."

"Enough!" Shadow Man moved forward but was stopped by Nasal Voice, who pointed the gun at him.

"No, Lucien. You're done interfering in our fun!" Nasal Voice pressed the barrel of the gun against Lucien's head, holding him back. Lucien sent an apologetic look towards Ayra.

Unexpectedly, Mustache swung the baton at her and hit Ayra in the jaw. The blow knocked her off balance. As she regained her composure, he tapped the baton against his palm, "No need in fighting, pretty."

"My name..." Ayra spat blood out of her mouth, "Is not pretty!" She ran into him, forcing her shoulder into the larger man's gut. The impact took them to the floor and knocked the baton from his hand. The man beneath her was a pig; a pig with a disgusting mustache. Ayra knew how to deal with pigs.

She thrust her knife into Mustache's stomach, and twisted the blade. The injured Peacekeeper screamed, crying for help.

Nasal Voice turned from Lucien and pointed the gun at Ayra. Quickly, Lucien shoved his elbow at the other Peacekeeper, forcing him to the floor. On his way down, Nasal Voice grabbed Lucien's leg and brought the larger man down to the ground. The two began wrestling on the grey cement, fighting for control of the gun in Nasal Voice's hand.

Ignoring the other two, Ayra pulled her knife out of Mustache's stomach. The blade came loose with a sickening _squelch_. The man screamed again as blood soaked through his white uniform. Adrenaline was pumping through Ayra's veins as she straddled the larger man. Slowly, she brought the knife up to the pig's throat.

The pig needed to be bled out.

In a final effort, Mustache took out his gun and pointed it at Ayra. Quickly, Ayra lashed out against his gun-wielding hand. The force of her swing knocked the gun out of Mustache's grip. The weapon skidded across the street towards a drain hole. Ayra looked at the gun, then back at the pig's beady eyes. In that instant, she knew what to do.

Ayra made a dive for it.

She launched herself towards the nearby gun. Before she could reach it, Mustache grabbed her foot by the boot.

Ayra tried to kick him off, but his hands started making their way up her jumpsuit, tugging at the thick material. She screamed in frustration and kicked out at him again. This time, she connected with his head. The Peacekeeper grunted and released her.

Ayra dropped her knife and picked up the black handgun, pointing it at the pig.

Mustache scrambled to his knees. One hand on his injured stomach, and the other outreached towards her. "Please...think about thi-"

She pulled the trigger.

The loud noise echoed in the alleyway.

Mustache fell back to the ground. The bullet had hit him in his left shoulder. It probably wasn't a fatal wound...probably.

"Wha-?" Nasal Voice let go of Lucien and stood up quickly, leaving his gun on the floor. "What did you just do?"

Mustache moaned on the ground, "Ugh..." Blood pooled around him.

Ayra entered a state of calm. Suddenly, she was in control. It calmed her and she felt her tight muscles, relax. She pointed the weapon at Nasal Voice, who subsequently raised his hands. "Get on your knees," she said calmly. Nasal Voice dropped quickly to his knees, eyeing the gun that was right in front of him. Ayra noticed his glance, "Don't."

Lucien brushed himself off and stood up, "Girl! Think about this."

"Shut up!" Ayra snarled at the tall man.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nasal Voice reach for the gun.

Without hesitation, she turned and pulled the trigger.

Ayra Banelin shot the Peacekeeper in the head, at point blank range. Nasal Voice fell to the ground, lifeless.

Lucien raised his hands, while Mustache gurgled in the background. "You don't have to do this, girl."

Ayra frowned, "See that's where you're wrong, _Lucien._ If I don't kill you, you might tell someone. I didn't want to do this. I didn't want to kill anyone..." The more she spoke, the more it all started to hit her. That calm state, she had been in, began to disappear. The gun trembled in her hand, and her teeth began to shake, "I...I didn't mean to..."

Lucien took a step forward, hands still by his head, "Give me the gun."

Ayra froze and Lucien took advantage of the situation. In one swift move, he knocked the gun out of Ayra's hands.

The Peacekeeper moved forward as if to grab her. Ayra lashed out and punched Lucien in the stomach. As he recoiled, she turned and ran as fast as she could.

"Stop!" His voice was deep and commanding.

Ayra stopped in her tracks. She was standing on the drain pipe, right next to her knife. It was where she had shot Mustache. Slowly she turned around to face him, hands twitching nervously.

"Don't move. I have to take you in, now." Lucien sounded almost upset.

As he moved forward, Ayra started to cry. The tears clouded her vision, "I never meant to..."

Lucien's resolve faltered and he let his stance drop at the sight of the crying teenager. He let his gun arm fall, so that it was resting by his side.

Seeing her chance, Ayra dropped to the ground. Quickly, she grabbed the knife and flung it right at Lucien. It hit the Peacekeeper in chest, sliding in-between his ribs. The force of the throw, sent Lucien off his feet, and he fell to the floor.

It was a lucky throw for Ayra. It was a deadly throw for Lucien.

Like she had before, Ayra straddled the moaning man. "I'm sorry," she whispered. Ayra removed the bloody blade from Lucien's chest, pinning him to the ground as he writhed.

Slowly, she slid the blade across his throat.

A thin line of blood followed her cut.

The deed was done.

Ayra Banelin moved from the lifeless Lucien back to her original attacker, Mustache. She knelt next to the pig that was gargling blood.

She almost felt sorry for the Peacekeeper. Almost.

Ayra plunged her thin blade into his chest, where she knew his heart was.

Mustache stopped wiggling and the light left his eyes.

Ayra stood up, knife in hand and surveyed the scene. Three dead Peacekeepers. Two gunshots. Two bullet wounds. Four knife cuts. It didn't seem real.

Tears started to fallse of the deed. In fact, she felt very little after killing three men. That was what upset her. It had been easy. Too easy. The state of calm she had been in, right after she had shot Mustache, was unsettling. Ayra wanted to feel something. She wanted to feel sad, or scared. But all she felt was nothing. For her, there was little difference between slaughtering a pig, and killing Mustache. She felt...detached.

Ayra wiped the bloody blade on her jumpsuit and put it back in the leather holster.

It was after curfew.

Ayra had to get home.

* * *

><p>Three months.<p>

It had been three months since Ayra killed the Peacekeepers. The three months were fairly uneventful. After the slaughter, Ayra barely slept for a week. She lay awake each night, waiting for Peacekeepers to knock on her door. She was sure that someone must have seen what she did. But no one came.

Ayra Banelin got away with it.

After a while, she grew less fearful. The memories stayed in the past and she was able to sleep again.

But Ayra didn't sleep last night. She never slept the night before the Reaping.

Ayra's name was in the giant ball an uncomfortable amount of times. Her family needed the tesserae. Both her parents were still out of work and spent any money they found on alcohol. Without the tesserae, the Banelin family would starve in the winter.

Ayra showed up to the District square in a dress. The peach, slim garb clung to her shapely body in the uncomfortable summer heat. Her hair was unbraided and fell against her back in chocolate waves. Ayra Banelin always looked beautiful and the Reaping was no exception.

She stood, silently, in the District Square amongst her female peers. After a few uncomfortable minutes of watching the annual video about the revolt, a bony man walked on to the stage.

"Welcome, welcome, welcome! The 54th Hunger Games will surely be...delightful." His lips smacked, disturbingly. "Well, let's not waste any time. Girls first." The bony man was dressed in a neon orange tuxedo. It was complete, with an oversize bowtie and a bright, blue undershirt. His top hat was tilted to the side. Ayra doubted the man's hat was crooked on accident. Bony Man's face was covered in a white powder that accented his disturbingly orange eyes and his unique thin, bony face.

Ayra watched the ball rotate round and round. That single, plastic ball held the attention of everyone in the District. Ayra waited, not daring to take a breath.

Eventually, the ball slowed. One slip of paper fell out of the ball and landed in the man's hand.

He unraveled the paper and walked towards the microphone.

"Ayra Banelin!"

Ayra's mouth opened, but no words came out.

Suddenly, all eyes were on her. Everyone knew who she was. The girls next to her, each took a step away.

Ayra felt helpless and alone. In that moment of panic and fear, she felt the calm inside of her. It was the same calm she had found back when she had fought the Peacekeepers .The calm swelled over her.

Ayra's jaw closed and her eyes developed a steely gaze. With purpose she walked up to the stage. Ayra stood there, determined. Her hazel eyes swept the entire District beneath her. The way they stared back unnerved her. However, Ayra retained her calm.

"Now for the boys." The bony man walked to the ball on the other side of the stage. He spun it, violently. The plastic ball, made little rickety noises as it spun around on the wire that held it. Finally, the District's attention turned away from Ayra. All eyes were on the ball.

Eventually, it stopped and a slip of paper fell out.

"Stark Hudson!"

Ayra heard a curse and turned to look at the commotion. A boy of fair hair emerged from the crowd. The tribute pushed others out of his way, growling. "Damn it."

Stark Hudson made his way up to the stage to stand next to Ayra. The boy was a few inches taller than her and three birthmarks dotted his left cheek. He looked around her age, and his tanned skin led her to believe he worked in grooming. Grooming was the only sector that worked outside, with the horses.

"Please join me in congratulating the tributes of District 10, Ayra Banelin and Stark Hudson!" The bony man chimed in.

Ayra returned her gaze back to the District. Interestingly, all eyes were on her again. No one was paying attention to the boy to her right. Ayra gave a small nod of acknowledgment to the District. Then Peacekeepers blocked her view. The white officers nudged her and Stark towards the mayor's house, behind them.

* * *

><p>As they walked up the stairs to say their final goodbyes, Stark turned towards Ayra. "Guess we're enemies now, Ayra Banelin." His deep voice sounded almost sarcastic. It was as if the entire situation just bored him.<p>

"Guess so." Ayra cast her eyes downwards.

Stark's eyes narrowed as they reached the end of the staircase. "Best of luck, Ayra Banelin. Although, I'm sure you don't need it." He disappeared into his room.

He was right, she didn't' need luck.

Ayra was convinced that she was a killer. Maybe her reaping had been punishment from a higher power. Maybe she deserved to die; an act of repentance for killing those Peacekeepers.

Deep down, she knew she could kill again. That was the horror of it all.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**

**Hey guys, hope you all enjoyed this chapter. If you have any qualms, criticism, or questions feel free to PM me! I will update frequently, so make sure to follow this story. Review, Review, Review!**

**About This Chapter: **So, due to popular demand (PMs) I decided to bring back my story! Woot Woot. I'll try and update once a week, but I might put one up this weekend, cuz next week I'm super busy. Ayra's chapter originally discouraged me a lot. Once again, her original story bored me to no end. (There seems to be a reoccurring theme of completely overhauling my characters haha). I have good direction for her now. Eve was originally a much larger character, but decided to cut her down to make room for Peacekeeper fight. I miss fight scenes, so much fun! Ayra's an interesting character. I think that she downplays a lot of what she comes across. Exploring other POVs in later chapters, will reveal more about how she comes across to other characters. The fight scene was so much fun to write. It took me a couple hours, but revision on that part was fairly swift. I could have done more with the Reapings, but honestly, I felt the writing for her feelings was too similar to Jake's. So, I kinda made it short. I might return later to District 10 (the actual District), because I feel like, similar to D7, I created a cool backstory for the District. I might explore Katherine, Edwin, or even Eve. We'll see. The story has so many places to go. I hope you enjoy the ride as much as I do. Until next time...

~Chase~


	6. Tribute List

**Cast of Characters**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Tributes in District Order - NameDistrict/Age/Gender/Personality **_

District 1

Rhyne (Ry) Parker / 18 / Male / The Leader

Blaise Torc / 18 / Female / The First Mate

District 2

Crixus Gaius / 18 / Male / The Challenger

Sabina Tiberius / 18 / Female / The Flawed Career

District 3

Vox Reznor / 15 / Male / The Man with the Plan

Nova Hinge / 14 / Female / The Clever One

District 4

Trey Marceux / 18 / Male / The Laggard

Raven Barnette / 17 / Female / The Crazy One

District 5

Redd Albrighter / 16 / Male / The Joker

Morgan Westing / 15 / Female / The Smoker

District 6

Barry McKelso / 16 / Male / The Special One

Ibis Pebble / 14 / Female / The Speller

District 7

Jake Lylow / 17 / Male / The Lovesick Puppy

Mellie (M) Eyse / 15 / Female / The Forgotten One

District 8

Rail Spencer / 18 / Male / The Brother

Pennie Spencer / 14 / Female / The Sister

District 9

Fyre Quill / 15 / Male / The Anarchist

Dakota Gael / 14 / Female / The Climber

District 10

Stark Hudson / 18 / Male / The Silver Fox

Ayra Banelin / 17 / Female / The Changeling

District 11

Anderson (Andy) Brudis / 13 / Male / The Farmer

Moira Shepard / 15 / Female / The Beautiful Disaster

District 12

Walker Duen / 14 / Male / The Sad One

Willow Lockheart / 12 / Female / The Little Girl

Other

Autumn Waters / D7 / 16 / Female / The Cheater

Erice Marker / D7 / 18 / Male / The Player

Eve Wrenser / D10 / 16 / Female / The Distant One

Thenotas Aore / Capitol / 33 / Male / The Gamemaker

* * *

><p><strong>AN**

**I may return to districts and do a chapter or two during the games so more characters may be added to others. Updates will be made after Private Training and after any kill.**

**Reviews are super appreciated. Like seriously. I feel motivated when I get reviews so do it bros! Thanks, and as always…to be continued….**


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